Mothers and Sons
by Khurdt
Summary: For a woman who was quickly approaching full term, Lori managed to cross the room rather quickly to deliver one hell of a slap to Daryl's scruffy cheek. please review!


A rusty creak echoed through the watch tower as Daryl sat back in the cracked leather chair. His blue eyes scanning over the cell block where only hours earlier Rick, T-Dog and he had deposited Axel and Oscar. It had been one hell of a day, and Daryl's head was aching.

He tried not to think of the new dangers, the prisoners, Hershel's amputation, hunting, clearing more of the prison. With a grimace, Daryl rubbed his scruffy face. He couldn't remember the last time he had shaved, not that personal hygiene was anywhere near a top priority in their living conditions.

His hands moved across the scruff and into his mop of greasy hair. It was getting pretty long now, which was an inconvenience during a hunt and when killing walkers. He would have cut it, but didn't want to ask one of the women for the help. He hated the thought of himself relying upon Lori or Carol, and instead waited for them to initiate their monthly haircutting routine that had become common practice within the group.

Shuffling from below the tower interrupted Daryl's thoughts and forced his hands from his hair and onto his crossbow within mere seconds. Again the chair creaked loudly as he left it to cautiously peer over the edge of the rail to examine the base of the tower. He quickly fixed his gaze upon a lanky figure wobbling towards the stairs. Although covered in shadow, Daryl could make out one thin hand reaching for the stair rail while another balanced what looked like a platter. He relaxed his squinted gaze, knowing well that only one member of the group would be stupid enough to have left the block after the day's events.

Daryl huffed once, and again returned his attention to scanning the perimeter. The darkened horizon was still and quiet. Only a few walkers shambled along the outside of the fence, and the inside presented an even greater atmosphere of relative safety. Feeling the moment was secure enough; Daryl moved to greet the figure who was now more than halfway up the tower stairs. As Daryl opened the heavy door to these stairs, the woman stopped walking. She met his gaze for only a moment, before glancing at the food in her hand and then her protruding stomach. Even in the darkness he could tell her eyes were a bit watery and her grip unnaturally tight upon the cold metal.

"I'm just… you never ate." Lori spoke quietly after clearing her throat.

Daryl grumbled and turned his back to her, it was too stupid and reckless to abandon his watch just to converse with Lori Grimes.

"Shouldn't be out here." He called over his shoulder. "I know Rick wouldn't have sent you out here just to give me that."

Lori glanced down at the lukewarm food. A swell of anger boiled inside of her at the mention of her husband and without thinking she found herself climbing higher. In a few bold steps she made her way into the watch room with Daryl.

The first thing she noticed was how cold and quiet it was. She walked over to the empty chair and placed the food upon it. A lantern hung earlier by Daryl illuminated her hands and arms. They were still tinged red from the blood. Unlike the present chill in the air, earlier today had been hot, and loud. The remnants of Hershel's amputation stained her arms and clothes. She and Carol had tried scrubbing, but its residue resisted their efforts. She pushed the sickening thoughts to the back of her mind and glanced towards her quiet company.

Daryl was staring into the night, one hand gripping his bow, and the other resting upon the railing.

"I ain't hungry; take it back for Carl or something." Daryl quipped dismissively.

"It's your dinner."

Daryl's head cocked slightly at her tone. Was she challenging him?

"Yeah?" Daryl tried to tone down his attitude. "Well like I said, Rick sure as hell didn't tell you to come serve it to me so you best head back to the block."

"Oh course Rick didn't tell me to bring it here," Lori barked. "He doesn't even talk to me! I'm bringing it because everyone else is with Hershel or trying to sleep."

Lori's anger caught Daryl off guard. His head was pounding and his body ached. He was in no mood to deal with Lori's bullshit and sure as hell wasn't about to play some marriage counselor. He turned to face the pregnant woman.

"That ain't my problem, Take the food and go rest. You and little Shane could probably use it."

For a woman who was quickly approaching full term, Lori managed to cross the room rather quickly to deliver one hell of a slap to Daryl's scruffy cheek.

"I can't believe you!" Lori spoke loudly. "For your information I probably could use it. I didn't eat today because I was too busy saving Hershel's life!" Lori's voice broke slightly as she continued the little tirade. "I was just bringing you food. Why would you react like that? I was trying to help."

Daryl resisted the urge to rub the sting from his face. Carol had warned him about joking like that, and even though he hated to, he knew he needed to apologize for his words.

"Look, I'm sorry." Daryl spoke lowly. He shuffled over to the plate and took hold of it. "You really need to eat this." He attempted to pass the plate off to Lori, who refused to uncross her arms. Daryl cringed at her subdued sniffles.

With her sniffles becoming noisier, Daryl sighed and removed his red rag from his back pocket. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He tried again. With a bowed head he extended the rag towards Lori.

She hesitantly accepted his meager offering. "Is it clean?" She asked as she wiped her nose.

"Ain't anymore, it's got your snot all over it."

Lori slightly smiled behind the rag before blowing her nose loudly. "Are you really giving me your dinner?"

Daryl really wasn't hungry. After seeing the rest of the prison today, especially where Axel and Oscar were to be living, he'd purposely avoided the thought of food. Daryl again picked up the food and shoved it in Lori's general direction. After she accepted the plate, his hand remained extended, palm up. She glanced twice between his eyes and hand before he spoke.

"My rag." His hand closed and opened in a 'give me' motion and his eye brows raised slightly.

"It's dirty." Lori looked at the dark snot stains covering the soft fabric.

"Lady you seen me recently? Snot don't bother me." Lori slowly examined Daryl's figure. He really was completely filthy. His long hair was darker from the constant grease and dirt. His face was never cleanly shaved, and his shirts nearly always had a bit of sweat under the arms.

Concluding her examination she dropped the rag into his hand and sat down on the chair to eat.

He tucked the rag back into the safety of his back pocket and adjusted his bow to point towards the dark night. Daryl was irritated. Sure he probably fucked up with the comment about Shane, but he didn't feel like he deserved the prolonged punishment of her presence. Couldn't she leave and just eat inside the prison?

As if she had been reading his mind Lori spoke. "I hope you don't mind me eating out here. I've been in that hot cell all day looking over Hershel. Carol's covering it now with Glenn; I just need a break away from it all."

Daryl kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the perimeter. He didn't need to risk any more trouble tonight.

Lori ate in near silence as Daryl stalked back and forth watching the prison yard.

They enjoyed a good ten minutes of peace before a loud crash shattered the night's serenity.

Daryl jumped as Lori erupted in a painful shriek. He turned; eyes landing on the lanky lady who was gripping her stomach. Her teeth were clenched and her head bowed, long dark hair soon hid the pained expression on her face.

Daryl crossed the room and gripped her shoulder. "What's going on?" He tried to suppress the worry in his voice. One of Lori's hands shot out and twisted its way into his leather vest. Her head bowed further until it was nearly resting on his chest. "Are you okay?" Daryl asked twice.

"This is why I did mouth to mouth resuscitation on Hershel!" Lori squealed. With another gasp of pain her nails scratched his vest's tough leather.

Daryl couldn't tell if the woman was breathing. After that second outburst she had been silent for over thirty seconds. "Lori?" He pushed her into a straight position, trying to encourage oxygen into her airways.

Lori let out a breath. "Yes, I'm okay." She released his jacket and wiped at her eyes. Daryl hesitantly stepped back. Shards of broken plate crunched under his feet. Lori placed her hand on her stomach. "I think." She bitterly whispered.

The two were silent for what felt like an hour. Lori looked up at the hunter. He was paler than she had ever seen him.

"Don't say anything to Rick."

"What just happened?" The bowhunter sputtered confusedly.

"I'm not sure. And that's why I need Hershel here. He needs to live so this baby does." Lori wrung her hands apprehensively.

"You having that pain happen a lot?"

Lori took a second to respond before nodding.

"Lori…" Daryl didn't really know what to say.

"Don't bother telling Rick. There's nothing he can do and I doubt he cares anyway." Daryl hated her broken expression.

"I won't say nothing to Rick if you don't want, but you need to figure out what's going on. You need a game plan or something."

Lori rubbed at her neck and looked up at the ceiling. "My game plan is to deliver this baby, live to raise it, and maybe save my family."

Daryl stuck his thumb nail in his mouth and began chewing out of nervousness.

"Daryl, I'm starting to believe with the recent events involving the drop in population I have become the world's worst mother."

Now Daryl really felt like shit. His stupid Shane comment had been completely unnecessary, and all it did was make a pregnant woman more upset. Sure she could be a pain in the ass, but Daryl didn't want her to believe she was some horrible monster of a mother.

Lori cried silently for a few minutes while Daryl kicked the broken glass into a small pile. He felt a soft hand upon his shoulder when he began scooping the pile into a trash bin.

"I did it, let me get it." Lori asserted.

"It's fine. Almost done anyhow." Daryl curtly replied.

"Take your watch, I'll clean this and get out of your way." Lori bent down and began collecting smaller pieces of ceramic and glass into her palm.

"Pregnant women ain't to be doing this shit. You done enough today Lori." Daryl argued back.

Lori's hand voluntarily tightened around a sharp piece she had picked up. Daryl watched as it carved slowly into her hand. A thin trail of blood dripped across her wrist.

"Hey, hey, hey! Woah women, what's gotten into you?" Daryl grabbed at her wrist and pulled them both into a standing position. Again the shards hit the ground.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-" Lori's breath caught and she tried and failed to contain her distress.

"I'm such a bad person. I can't see this getting better Daryl! I can't fix it!"

Daryl leaned away from the train wreck. As far as he was concerned Lori had officially lost it.

Daryl kicked the glass into a corner and resumed a scouting position against the rail. He kept his body turned so that he would have one eye on the prison grounds and the other on Lori.

Daryl thought about what she had said. It wasn't really fair for her to be beating herself up that hard. She wasn't the world's worst anything. He knew that first hand.

"I'm sorry Daryl." Lori announced after five minutes.

"Best head back," Daryl nodded. "Show Carol that hand of yours. Clean it good."

From the peripheral of his vision he again saw her slightly nod. "You need help getting back?"

Lori knew it was an offer more out of general politeness than actual concern, she assumed it was his way of apologizing again for his earlier comment.

"I'll be fine, I'm not alone, remember." She patted her large stomach before moving towards the door.

She was finally leaving, yet now he felt like shit letting her leave in her current mental state. There was little he could do to stop what he said next.

"Lori, for what it's worth, you ain't anywhere near the worst mother in the world." Daryl's hard eyes cast downward as his worn boots toed the concrete floor. "Same goes for wife."

"I fought with Carl today. He and Rick hate me." Lori bitterly mused. "I deserved your earlier comment; you don't have to say this now. I know my mistakes and what they make me."

Daryl tried to meet her gaze. He suddenly became aware of the huge lump in his throat. The guilt from his words stung, and he mentally cursed that bastard Shane.

"You know, my mom liked to drink. And she liked her Winston Lite's. Lady was always smoking in the house, always bringing her vices to bed. One day she lit up the whole house. Burned herself to nothin'." Daryl didn't know why he was bringing up these unaddressed memories, but a large part of him suddenly felt it wasn't only her who needed to get things out tonight.

"The homelessness and poverty weren't even the worst of it for me or Merle. It was the beatings, and with her not around they sure got a lot worse. Old lady didn't leave behind nothing. No love, just a shit family. No good memories. Just nothing', never wanted anything more for her own kids. S'why I cared so much about losing Merle, it was us surviving together my whole damn life."

His eyes met Lori's for the first time since he began exposing his past. "I was a few years younger than Carl when I lost her."

Lori's bottom lip trembled slightly and again snot ran from her nose. Daryl pulled the rag from his pocket and cupped Lori's good hand around it.

"Ain't telling you this shit to upset you anymore, I'm telling you so you know you ain't the worst mom out there. Can't believe that shit. You and Rick are just going through a patch that's no big deal. Rick found you a safe place for Carl and this baby. We talked about it out on the road. He loves you. I think he's just trying to do a lot at once."

"What about Carl?" Lori looked concerned.

Daryl stepped back and glanced around the yard. "Kid's gonna be fine. Just keep being there for him. Love him and shit, I guess." Daryl checked his crossbow, trying to dismiss the gravity of the conversation. "He's tough in the way he needs to be."

"What if I can't be there for them? What if this baby kills me?"

"No one's going anywhere anytime soon. Hershel got his damn leg gnawed at and we didn't let him go. Stop actin' like you're gonna up and disappear."

Lori nodded, forcing her mind into agreement with Daryl. "Okay I guess you're right. I just hate living on poor terms."

"You and Rick, and you and Carl are gonna be just fine. The terms ain't settled yet. You ain't lost them." Daryl's sleeveless arm extended across the rail and swept over the yard. "You ain't like Carol, or any of these sorry bastards."

At the mention of Carol's loss, Lori stepped towards the intimidating hunter. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, turning his body so that her head fit into his collar.

"Thank you Daryl."

Daryl tensed at the contact. The feel of Lori's large stomach felt awkward against his own. Never in his life had he been so close to a baby, regardless of the fact it was still in utero.

Before needing to be told, Lori broke the awkward embrace. She blew her nose a final time and tucked Daryl's rag into her own pocket. "I need to wash this for you." She called as she moved towards the door.

"Daryl, if something does happen to me during this pregnancy, you need to let them know I love them. Rick , Carl, and this pain in the ass baby. Could you please just let them know?"

Daryl smiled slightly. "Ain't good with words or feelings. Besides, I just told you you'll be there to let your guys and your little ass kicker know how things really are."

"Ass kicker?" Lori laughed. "Good Lord Daryl Dixon, I can't have you calling my baby something so vulgar, what if it's a sweet little girl?"

"Well buck up woman and stop letting it kick your ass! Right now it looks like it's got you making a scene every time the damn thing moves." He attempted to make light of the tense situation earlier. "You let us know though if it's rolling tide too hard on you, one of the ladies has got to have some idea on how to make this whole easier. You deserve it."

Lori smiled again. Daryl Dixon had changed so much since Atlanta. She hoped he could see how invaluable he was, the group was a family and he was much loved.

"Goodnight Daryl."

"Be safe." He spoke over his shoulder.

Lori returned to the block to find Carl already asleep in her bunk. Carol appeared a few minutes later after having checked on Hershel.

Back in the tower Daryl thought about the conversation with Lori. He wasn't dumb, there was a high chance she or that baby wouldn't make it. He had no idea if he could handle her request for communication with Carl. It just wasn't something he had ever been good at. He never had a mother of his own to build that type of bond.

But he had promised he's try. The moment he had opened his mouth and spoke of his own mother, he knew he had taken on a serious task that would have to be seen through to completion.

Daryl scratched at his greasy scalp. Maybe the more he spoke of his past, the easier it would get. He doubted Carl would understand the story he had just told Lori, but he didn't know where else to begin.

Daryl sighed again and scratched at the scruff on his cheeks. For the first night since that fire so long ago, he prayed for a mother and her children.


End file.
